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Chapter Text

Stephanie Lauter could not say her life was easy. Sure, she never really had it rough in the social ladder, she was pretty and funny and the mayor’s daughter so the “friends” came to her. But she could never be herself. She had to be perfect, uphold this imagery her father painted of her to the public so he could win his elections. At least, until he died. 

Now, she spent her time hanging out with her best friend, Charlie, and Grace Chasity, something she never thought would ever happen but she had seen how broken the other girl had been after that night in the gym. She wasn’t going to let Grace destroy herself over this. Sure, it may have been her idea for the prank but Grace couldn’t have predicted this was how it was going to go. 

That, and crashing on her boyfriend’s brother’s couch, eager to be anywhere that wasn’t her own empty house. Ted never asked when she would show up in the middle of the night, would just fix his brother with a look, wiggle his eyebrows, and leave the two of them to cuddle away nightmares. 

Today though, she woke up confused. She could have sworn she fell asleep on Ted’s couch last night, some dumb movie playing in the background as Pete got ready for bed. But here she was, in her own bed, in her own room, in her own house. 

She looked around. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Her backpack was still slung over her desk chair, flannel draped on top of it. Her docs were haphazardly flung about the room, as she usually did before dropping into bed to scroll mindlessly on her phone before her dad yelled at her to complete her homework (she never listened). 

Used to, her mind supplied. When he used to yell at her about her homework. 

Suddenly, Steph felt sick. She leaned over the side of the bed to grab her trash can, but nothing came out. She knew she shouldn’t care so much about her father. He certainly didn’t care all that much about her. He cared about her image, sure, and what she could do for him, but he didn’t care about her. 

That had been a point of contention between her parents when her mother was still alive. Her father worked too much, never took the time to be with Steph even when she needed him. The day her mother died, Stephanie Lauter resigned herself to knowing that she would never be what her father wanted. She would change herself, rip open her skin and plant seeds in her intestines that would bloom into the Stephanie Lauter her father thought she was, and even still her father didn’t want her. She would never be good enough. 

A knock sounded on her bedroom door and she shot upright, clutching the trashcan to her chest. There wasn’t anything she could really do with it if she needed to fight, but maybe it would stun whoever it was long enough for her to get away. 

Her father opened the door to her room and she stared. This had to be a nightmare, right? One where her dead father came back to reprimand her about everything she’s done wrong. 

“Stephanie, it would do you some good to wake up earlier.” He drawled. 

“Yeah,” she said, hands shaking as she pulled back the covers. 

“You’re going to be late, Stephanie,” Her father reminded her. 

He then turned and walked out of the room like he didn’t just shatter every shred of reality into tiny pieces. What the fuck was going on?

As Steph got dressed, she reached for her phone, wanting to call Pete and see if he had any idea what the fuck was happening. But as she descended the stairs, scrolling through her contacts list, his name was nowhere to be found. 

“Stephanie,” Miss Tessburger’s voice caught her attention, “You’ll be receiving calls from staffers this afternoon, do make yourself useful and respond.”

“Uh,” she stared, confused, “Sure thing Miss Tessburger.”

“Well,” the woman blinked, “That was easy.”

“Are you feeling alright, Stephanie?” Her father asked, “You usually put up more of a fight.” 

“Yeah,” She waved her hand, “I’m fine. Just, uh, slept funny.”

But she couldn’t stop staring. At her dead father and his dead secretary. Because the last time she had seen either of them was a funeral. Closed casket, of course, since Max had ripped Miss Tessburger’s head clean off, and her father was ripped to bloody shreds. But still. She knew their bodies were in there. 

Something wasn’t right. Her dad cared more about votes than her birthday, sure, but even he couldn’t bring people back from the dead. And yet, she could feel it: the wrongness hanging in the air like fog before a storm.

Somewhere, someone was grinning in the dark.

Chapter Text

When Steph got to school, she couldn’t shake the odd feeling that was rumbling around her stomach. Maybe it was because she skipped breakfast, too uneasy to eat anything. She just had to find Pete, Grace, and Charlie, they’d know what was going on. They were smarter than her, that was for sure, they could tell what was wrong. 

Charlotte “Charlie” Jagerman, Steph’s best friend since diapers and Max’s twin sister, stood at her locker, her back turned to Steph. Steph sighed in relief that at least she seemed normal. 

“Hey, Stephie,” She greeted when she noticed the other girl, “Everything okay?”

Charlie took in Steph’s haggard look, the circles under her eyes and the haphazardly thrown on flannel and jeans. It was a usual look for her but something about it seemed off-putting to Charlie. 

“Not really, no.”

“Is it your dad again?” The other girl asked, voice dropping to a whisper, “What’d he do now?”

“Came back from the freaking dead!”

Charlie paused, staring at her, “What are you talking about? Last I checked, your dad was very much alive.”

“You’re joking, right?” Steph raised her eyebrows, “You don’t remember Max tearing my father to pieces?”

“That’s not funny, Steph.” Charlie frowned, “Max may be a douche sometimes but he’d never kill anyone.”

She closed her locker and gathered her things, turning away from Steph. 

“I gotta go. I’ll see you in class.”

Great. She had just pissed off her best friend and one of the people who could’ve helped her solve this mystery. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She muttered to herself. 

The day got even weirder. Pete would only squeak and run away from her everytime she tried to talk to him, Grace was still trying to get the dance canceled which had already happened, and Ruth Fleming and Richie Lipshictz were alive and sitting in her biology class. 

She knew this day. She had lived it after all. The pop quiz Mulberry threw at her and the day she and Pete’s fates became intertwined. 

“Alright, class, pop quiz. I hope you’ve been hitting the books. Miss Lauter?”

Miss Mulberry hands her the paper and she stares at it, trying to remember anything from before. She can’t, of course, and it seems like the universe, or the lords in black, or whoever was fucking with her, wants her to play it out the exact same way. 

So, she leans over to tap Pete on the arm quietly. 

“Hey,” She whispers, “Hey geek.”

He turns to her, “Me?”

“Your name’s Peter, right?”

But she knew that already. She had held his hand when he found out Richie had died. Comforted him when Grace told them about Ruth. Let him cry into her shoulder, and her into his, when all was said and done and she had almost shot him. When they went to homecoming together and kissed for the very first time. She had slept on his couch, or his bed, or his floor when the nightmares had been too much and the empty house had sent shivers down her spine. 

She knew Peter Spankoffski like the back of her hand. And here he was, looking at her like she was crazy for even talking to him. 

“Yeah?”

“Hi, Pete. We’ve been in class together for a long time, haven’t we?”

“Since the first grade.”

“But I’m just realising I’ve never introduced myself. I’m Stephanie.”

Her voice wobbled a bit, remembering the way he’s always said her name. When he would say it just to see her smile at him. Or to make her laugh. Or to remind her that she wasn’t alone, that she didn’t have to walk this godforsaken path by herself. 

“Lauter, the mayor’s daughter. Yeah, I know.”

“Yeah, but my friends call me Steph. We’re friends, aren’t we, Pete?”

Please say yes, she begged. Please let something be normal today. 

“I don’t know. Are we?”

Her hope burst and bled out onto the floor. She sighed, “Well I wouldn’t advertise it to the whole school or anything, but uh… there’s an unspoken bond between us! We’re classmates, comrades! We’re Nighthawks! And we don’t leave anyone behind.”

“I got left behind this morning, the bus driver’s a fuckin’ asshole.”

“We succeed together, we fail together. I won’t mince words. I’m gonna fail this test, Peter. Unless you help me cheat?”

“Cheat?”

She nodded, “Come on, finish your exam, pass it to me and I’ll put my name on it! I’ll give you mine, then you get to take the test all over again, Doesn’t that sound fun!”

“Well, yeah, but won’t we get into trouble?”

She pouted, giving him the eyes she knew he couldn’t resist, “Please, Pete? Don’t you wanna help me out?”

“Oh, alright.”

He handed her his paper and that’s when Grace stood up from behind them, pointing at the two. 

“Cheater!”

“Oh, god, butt out Chasity!”

Pete nodded, “Grace, just be cool.”

Grace just raised her hand, “Miss Mulberry, they’re cheating!”

Steph looked at Pete and hoped to see some sort of smile or anything but all she saw was panic. Fear. At being alone with her. It hurt her to notice it now, that he really was terrified to be around her. And she didn’t really blame him. With the way Max acted, the reason they pulled the prank in the first place, he couldn’t do anything but live in fear. 

“Peter! Stephanie! Principal’s office. Now.”

Steph and Pete stood up silently and walked out of the classroom. To this day, Steph was still pissed Grace had snitched on them in the first place. She caught Charlie giving her a sorry smile and tried to reassure the other girl that she was fine. 

As they walked, it was silent, Peter practically running away from her. 

“Slow down, Spankoffski,” She said, wanting the time with him she didn’t get before.

“I can’t.” He muttered, “He’s creamed nerds for less!”

“Who, Max?” Pete nodded and she sighed, “He can’t have eyes everywhere.”

It didn’t matter what she said, Pete still took off running. She sighed again, rubbing a hand over her face. It didn’t make sense. Why was she here? How did she get here? Were the lords in black playing a trick on her? Was she cursed to spend life living in an endless loop of watching everyone she cared about, and didn’t get to know, die? 

She didn’t know but one thing was for sure, she was going to find out. Because, seeing her dead dad and dead friends were one thing? Seeing Max Jagerman again was like a shock to her core. 

See, the last time Stephanie Lauter saw Max Jagerman, he was half-decayed and screaming. But nothing could have prepared her for this.

Max walked through the halls like he owned them, and in his mind, he did. Hair freshly gelled. Letterman Jacket crisp. Smirk intact. Stephanie’s vision blurred at the edges.

He sauntered past like this was just any other day in hell and not impossible. Like he hadn’t died, like he hadn’t come back again, like she hadn’t watched him dissolve into nothing and...

Stephanie didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Her heart thudded like a drum in an empty auditorium. 

He looked at her, “What are you staring at, Steph?”

Stephanie dropped her water bottle. It hit the floor with a hollow clang.

Max tilted his head. “What’s with you?”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Stared. Because the last time Max Jagerman had said her name, it had been followed by “You lured me to that house. You betrayed me!”

Chapter Text

Stephanie was so lost. She thought back to the day Max died and how, no matter what she did, it always ended in blood. Hers, or someone else’s. She couldn’t come up with a solution that didn’t make her sound crazy. She needed someone to believe her, anyone. 

The worst part was how normal everything felt. No screaming. No hauntings. No ghost claws dragging someone into lockers. Just birds chirping and Charlie studying with her and Brenda trying out some new cheer and Max Jagerman alive, stuffing nerds into lockers and tormenting the halls of Hatchetfield High. It made Stephanie want to scream. 

So, she did the next best thing, force someone to listen to her. Sure, she could’ve gone to Charlie for this, as her best friend was always willing to help her out, but she knew that it had to be Grace. Because if Grace Chasity believed in the unholy and unnatural, then it would be easier to convince the others. 

She found Grace in the library, doing her homework. She didn’t look up as Steph sat next to her, silent. She just waited until Grace put down her pencil. 

“You remember,” Steph said, “When Charlie died here?”

“Excuse me?”

“Max stuck a pencil through her stomach. And she cried but she forgave him.” Steph whispered, voice choked, “Because she loves him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What about Richie? Drowned by Max in a toilet in the locker room during the big game.” She tried, “Or Ruth? Wegied to death by Max in the auditorium.”

“I don’t…”

“You stopped him from killing Pete and I in the gym. You gave up your chastity. For us.”

“I wouldn’t…”

“But you did.” Steph interrupted, “Because you knew it was the only way to stop Max.”

A tear rolls down Grace’s cheek. Her hands tremble where they lay on the table and Steph knows she’s remembering. She remembered the feeling of his hands on her skin, tugging and pulling. The fire they left behind, the bile that rose in her throat when they were finished. 

She remembered dropping to her knees and sobbing, loud, ugly cries as Steph and Pete circled their arms around her. She remembered being tucked into Pete’s bed that night, Steph brushing hair out of her face so gently. She remembered asking them to stay, to cure the ache that was in her heart. 

“Oh,” she whispered, tears running down her face now. 

“Grace?”

She looked up at Steph, her lower lip quivering, “I remember. I remember it all.”

Steph felt a weight lift off her chest. Grace understood now. Something was wrong. Max Jagerman should be deep down in drowsy town right now and he was here, walking around like it was another la de da da day. 

“Look, Grace, I’m not thrilled about this, but I need your help.” Steph sighed, “My Grace, she’s been through a lot. And she needs me. So, I need you to help me get back to her.”

Grace gave Steph an appraising look, almost confused as to why Steph would care about her so much. But then her face softened and she seemed to remember how lost she had been after Max and how much the others had helped. 

“Okay,” Grace agreed, “How?”

Chapter Text

Douglas Keane, or Duke as everyone else knew him, made his way to the tiny 80’s inspired diner known as Miss Retro’s. No one else was there at the moment but that was okay with him since he needed to talk to Miss Retro herself about some things he wasn’t sure were good. 

He spotted the red-haired, jean jacket-wearing lady wiping down a table with a rag before picking up an empty cup and placing it onto a tray. 

“Heya Duke,” Miss Holloway greeted as he entered the diner. 

Miss Holloway was holding a tray full of dirty dishes. She hadn’t looked up when he entered but she knew it was him. After all, most people didn’t come by for personal visits. Not unless they needed her for something. Duke, on the other hand, was different. He loved spending time with the 80’s witch, and though he knew it could never happen, he longed to love the woman the way she deserved. 

“Hiya darling.” He said, smiling when she turned his way. “What’d ya need me for?”

She put the tray down onto the counter and looked at the man. He didn’t look any different, black hair slicked back and button down covered with some form of windbreaker. He radiated nerves, however, which made Miss Holloway on high alert. The last time she needed help from Duke, she had almost lost Hannah Foster in Nightmare Time. 

“I have this feeling.” She said. 

He gestured for her to explain and she did. She told him about her bad feelings, the dreams she’d been having, and the explanation Hannah gave from Webby. The Lords in Black were messing with Hatchetfield again, a tale as old as time. But this time around, something was gonna change the ending. 

“Where can I find these kids?” She asked, an unsettling feeling in her gut. 

“I’ll let them know you wanna speak to them and see when they can come on by.”

Miss Holloway nodded as Duke watched her work, figuring she wouldn’t tell him more anyway. She always said that he’d forget if she shared too much though he wanted to argue, how could he forget the woman he loved. 

Chapter Text

Duke waited until after the mayor’s speech to approach Stephanie Lauter. She looked bored the whole time, furiously texting on her phone to someone he couldn’t catch. When she spotted him coming over, she gave him a curious glance. He supposed it made sense, why would he be talking to her? He had no reason to. 

Duke was a social worker, yes, but even he knew that interfering with the way Solomon Lauter parented was like asking to get burned by a fire you didn’t know existed. 

He had already spoken to Grace Chasity, the girl agreeing to come speak to Miss Holloway alongside Stephanie. The girl had eagerly agreed, almost like she was thirsting for information. Something is definitely going on but he just didn’t know what. 

“Stephanie?” He asked, “I’m Duke.”

“I know who you are.” The girl said, eyeing him. 

“I gotta ask something,” Duke said quietly, breaking the silence. The girl nodded. “There’s a woman, Miss Holloway, she wants to talk to you. You and Grace Chasity. You up for it?” 

“Why?” 

“You have no idea what kind of trouble you’ve stirred up, do you?” She shook her head and Duke sighed, “Come on. She’ll tell you.” 

“Okay?” 

He turned and exited, Stephanie’s eyes boring holes into his back as she followed him. She clearly didn’t trust him, and he didn’t blame her. He had given her no reason to. He just knew that whatever she had done had caused Miss Holloway nerves and usually, that wasn’t a good thing. 

When they stopped and picked up Grace, Steph’s distrust increased. She had no idea what was going on and she liked it even less that nobody would tell her anything. 

Duke led the two teens into the diner. It was decorated with memorabilia from the 80s, movie posters and records hung around as well as an original 1982 Castle Grayskull play-set. It also had a neon sign that glowed pink and a jukebox which played pop tunes. Inside, the diner had a number of booths and a bar lined with stools. The kitchen was hidden behind some swinging saloon doors. Despite having seen it around town, none of them had really ever been there. 

“Hiya kids,” Miss Holloway greeted. 

They were confused by her. She wore a denim jacket and had teased red hair with a pearly white smile. She looked like she belonged on a poster for the 80’s. Her presence was comforting, a warmth emanating from her that the two girls eagerly drank in. But, they had no idea why they were here. 

“Are you…?” Steph began, hesitantly, “Miss Holloway?”

“I am.” She smiled, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

She slid a piece of pie in front of both of them and sat down next to Duke at one of the booths. The girls stared, wondering if this was some sort of trick. 

“Go ahead,” Miss Holloway said, indicating the pie, “It’s pretty good, I made it myself.” 

Grace hesitantly picked up her fork, taking a bite. It seemed like she was doing it to be polite so Steph followed her lead. The pie, however, was one of the best things she’s ever tasted. It made her miss her mother so much. 

“I’m Stephanie,” She introduced herself, “And this is Grace.” 

“I know sweetheart,” Miss Holloway said.

“You know what’s happening,” Steph said accusatively. 

Miss Holloway nodded, “Always have. But knowing’s different than remembering.”

Steph frowned, unsure of where this was going. She hadn’t done anything that different, except for the first day when she upset Charlie, or when she confronted Grace and made her remember everything that had gone down. Or when she stared at Max Jagerman like he shouldn’t have been standing there. Because he shouldn’t have. He was dead. She knew that. 

"Hatchetfield is unique, as I’m sure you know," Miss Holloway sighed. "For most, that strangeness becomes background noise. Still, there’s something about this town…”

She rose from the table and went towards the back. When she returned, she held a familiar book in her hands. The Black Book. 

“The Lords in Black wrote the music,” Miss Holloway said. “They built this town as a stage. And we? We are the puppets they keep winding back.”

Steph leaned forward, “So how do we stop them?”

Miss Holloway smiled, “You turn the page.”

As Stephanie opened the book, shadows curled at the edges of the light. Names spilled across the pages, people who had lived and died, and lived again. Blood soaked footnotes. Glyphs written in tongues no human mouth could form. But she understood. Somehow. Grace touched the page beside her. Together, they began to read.

Suddenly, the two girls jolted backward, sending the Black Book tumbling from the table. Miss Holloway knelt, retrieving the book. Her eyes were darker than before.

“He’s aware now,” she said. “You pulled the thread and he felt it tug . ”

“Who?” Grace asked, unsure. 

“The time one,” Steph said, “Uh, Tiny or something.”

“Tinky,” Miss Holloway confirmed, “And yes. He’s been playing with time again, it seems.” 

“What does that have to do with me?” 

Miss Holloway sighed, suddenly looking so much older than the two teens had believed her to be. She had been through a lot after all, it was only natural it would show at some point. 

“Tinky is the most unpredictable,” She explained, “He’s always had such a strange fascination with that man, Ted Spankoffski. That could extend to his brother, Peter, as well.”

“So, he’s what? Using me to get to them?” Steph frowned, “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“I’m not sure. They never do anything the same way twice. You have to be careful,” Miss Holloway warned. “If they decide to rewrite you completely, you’ll vanish. Your soul, your mind, your memory, unstitched like bad embroidery. You’ll think you were never born.”

Grace clenched her jaw, "Then let’s unwrite them first."

Chapter Text

Steph and Grace had made a plan. They were going to continue on as if they knew nothing, as if they weren’t aware that they had lived through this before. Miss Holloway said it would be a “groovy” idea to act as everything was normal but since they were aware of what would happen in the days that follow, they could switch things up. 

So, Steph and Grace needed to talk to the others sooner rather than later. If they were on top of things, then they could prevent Max from dying and seeking his revenge on any person he deemed a nerdy prude.

Unfortunately, Steph still had to go home and deal with her father. Her dead father. Who was now alive. And running the same tight ship as he was before. She groaned inwardly when her father stopped her from heading out the door. She was trying to figure out how she ended up here, she didn’t have time to listen to him talk about the upcoming election. Or her failure to procure a tutor.

“Stephanie,” her father said, entering her bedroom.

She looked up, though she wanted to do anything else. She found a spot on the wall behind her father’s head to focus on so she could get through this conversation and then go back to school.

“Do you have any idea what’s coming up in a mere matter of weeks?”

“The election.”

Her father nodded, “The election. You know I had to personally call your principal this morning? Did you know they wanted to suspend you?”

She had known that because he was just reiterating what he had said when he found out she had failed at cheating off Peter’s paper in the first place. 

“Imagine how that would’ve reflected on me? The mayor’s daughter, a deviant, a flunky. We came to an arrangement.”

That made her stomach drop since her father could be a deviant man as well. How else would he have been so good at politics? She remembered the night he drove her, Grace, Charlie and Pete out to find the black book. The digging, the chanting. It all came back to her and she shivered. 

“They’re not going to punish you, but I am. You will raise your grades or else.” 

“Or else?” She rolled her eyes, pretending not to care, “How ominous.”

“Do it, Stephanie. That’s final.” 

He then turned on his heel and exited her room, leaving her enough time to grab her backpack and follow him downstairs to get to school. 

When she arrived, she found her three friends, Stacy, Brenda, and Charlie, standing around and waiting for her. It’s not like they were going to class, not until the bell rang anyway, if they even showed. Charlie looked like she was sketching something while Brenda and Stacy chatted away. 

“Hey, guys,” Steph said, greeting them. 

They gave a collective greeting before Steph leaned against the wall to watch them. She tilted her head in Charlie’s direction, watching the girl draw. Usually, she’d hide the sketchbook but Steph had best friend privileges and so Charlie didn’t pull away. 

“That looks good,” Steph muttered.

“Thanks,” the girl said, smiling, “you don’t.” 

“Yeah,” Steph blew out a breath, “My dad gave me the whole ‘get your grades up or else’ speech again.” 

She didn’t mention that it’s been like three times that she’s heard the speech. She couldn’t tell them. Charlie, maybe, but she needed to be eased into it. The other two? Forget it. That was asking for something Steph wasn’t ready to unleash. 

“Didn’t he already do that?” Brenda asked, tuning into the conversation. 

Steph nodded, “Yeah. I even tried to get a tutor! Made plans to meet at Pasqualli’s, he said he’d be there in 20 minutes and he never showed. I was there waiting all night, I ended up studying out of sheer boredom.”

Brenda sighed, “Well, maybe you scared him off, Steph. Pasqualli’s? You save that place for like… the fifth date.” 

Stacy nodded, “That’s where you go before the first blowy! Everybody knows that!”

“And he still stood you up? Girl. That must be so embarrassing for you.”

Steph shook her head, “It wasn’t a date, Brenda.”

Charlie chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Sure, Steph. Keep telling yourself that.”

Steph shrugged Charlie off, knowing the girl was teasing. Before Pete had even taken the call from Steph at the payphone, Steph had told Charlie that he was kinda cute if she let herself admit it. The other girl had teased her but ultimately was behind Steph if she did decide she wanted to give him the chance. 

“Who is this guy anyway, standing up the mayor’s daughter like he’s got no fucks to give?” Brenda asked, twirling a lock of hair, “Not gonna lie, that’s really sexy.”

Both Charlie and Steph started laughing, the latter shaking her head, “He’s not sexy it’s Peter… Spankoffski?”

It takes the other two a moment before something seems to click in Brenda’s head, “Oh my god, the fucking bow tie kid?”

Stacy gasps, “Oh, Steph! I know he’s rich but… money isn’t everything! Looks are.” 

“Looks and like, if you’re on the football team.” 

“Oh my god, I can’t wait for the big game!”

The two cheerleaders screamed excitedly and Steph flinched a bit while Charlie covered her ears. They were their best friends but the other girls could be a bit much sometimes. Not in a bad way, they were just easily excitable. 

Besides, it was hard for Steph to be excited. That was when Richie died the first time around. This time, she would save him. She had to. 

“Oh!” Stacy said, getting Steph’s attention, “You have to see the new cheer! It’s so fab!”

Steph noticed Ruth and Richie standing off to the side and pushed off the wall, already starting towards them. Her heart ached seeing them again and she so desperately wanted to hug them but she knew that would scare them off before she could even do anything. 

“Not right now, Stace.”

Charlie, intrigued, followed Steph. Of course anyone at Hatchetfield High knew that these two nerds in particular were close to Peter so it made sense Steph would ask them what happened, if they knew why Peter blew her off the other night. 

“Hey, uh. Dweeb?”

They both turned around, “Yeah?”

And then their faces fell upon seeing that Steph was the one talking to them. That made Charlie’s eyebrows raise but the girl didn’t ask questions. 

Steph’s heart skipped a beat, seeing them looking at her like that. She supposed the first time around she had deserved it but after everything that had happened, those looks being directed at her made her stomach churn. 

“Have either of you seen Peter around?”

“Why?” Richie asked, “Looking to kick him while he’s down?”

“You got all of our hopes up, temptress.”

Steph scoffed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on. You lured him right into the lion’s den. We thought you were waifu material but you’re just a bitch.” 

“Yeah! Yeah, we’re gonna find new objects of our sexual desires. Then you’ll be sorry.”

Steph pinched the bridge of her nose, pretending to be annoyed by Ruth, while Charlie chuckled. The second girl looked at her best friend and shrugged. Deciding she wasn’t gonna get answers outta them, the two girls made their way towards the boy’s bathroom when Richie muttered something that sounded like it. 

“Pete? Are you in here?”

“Steph, this is the boys’ bathroom!”

Charlie rolled her eyes, “Grow up.”

“Wow.” Ruth twirled around, “These toilets aren’t even in stalls? You all just watch each other pee? It’s better than I ever imagined!”

Charlie chuckled at her as did Steph, unable to stop herself. She knew her best friend had a crush on the girl but to see it, really see it, was something else. Plus, Steph had always thought Ruth was secretly funny and to hear it again after being deprived of it made her heart warm. 

Pete stepped out from one of the bathroom stalls, his glasses held in one hand. He was clearly trying to hide his eye but failed when Steph stepped a tiny bit closer to him.

“Oh my god… Pete, what did he do to you?”

“What, this? You should see the other guy. He bruised his knuckles on my face.”

A couple days after homecoming, Peter gave Steph the explanation as to why he never showed that night at Pasqualli’s. Max had stepped in, deemed Peter to be encroaching on his turf, and couldn’t stand it. So, he took it out on him the only way he knew how. With his fists. 

“I’m so sorry Peter.” Charlie rushed out. 

Peter just looked broken. Steph turned to Peter with a broken hearted look in her eyes. That and a subtle rage. 

“This is such bullshit. I’m not gonna let him get away with this.” Steph said, beginning to leave. 

Charlie sighed, “What are you gonna do Steph? He’s not gonna listen to you. He barely listens to me.” 

Steph stopped, looking torn. She knew that realistically Charlie was their only chance at surviving whatever Max Jagerman became. 

“Steph,” Pete said firmly, “The more you get involved, the worse things are gonna be for me. It’s like I said. I’m not allowed to talk to you.” 

“Who does Max think he is? My dad? What a fucking psycho!” She shook her head, “No, I’m sorry. Pete, I’m going to the principal with this.” 

Richie scoffed, “This is Max Jagerman, the quarterback of the HatchetField Nighthawks. If you think the principal cares more about us than the outcome of the big game, then you are wilfully naive.” 

Ruth nodded, “That’s some cool kid privilege right there.” 

“Well, we have to do something!” Steph argued, “Charlie can’t keep him at bay forever.” 

And Steph knew that for a fact. After Max had come back from the dead, Charlie had tried to protect all of them, keep them safe. They only knew it hadn’t worked when Richie wound up dead. And so, she implemented the buddy system. And only when Ruth had died and Charlie had wound up in the library alone, silently mourning for a relationship she never got to have, did she come to see just how far her brother had fallen. 

Steph knew how much Max’s bullying broke her heart. How much she wished her brother would accept help, would stop making everyone else’s lives miserable just because theirs were. 

“And what, pray tell, would that be?” Richie asked, jaw tense. 

“I don’t know!” Steph paused, thinking, “We… we…”

“Destroy him!” Grace said, chipperly. 

“Butt out, Chasity,” Steph defended, “This is none of your business.” 

“It very much is my business. And not just because I’m a hall monitor and there are three girls in the boy’s bathroom. Detention for all three of you.” 

She handed over the passes. When she handed Steph’s to her, she winked, like it was a special mission to be going to detention. Steph forgot just how much she couldn’t stand Grace in the beginning. Now, the girl had grown on her, like a weed. Now, she couldn’t imagine not spending time with the girl. 

“God you suck, Grace.” Charlie muttered, tucking the pass into her pants pocket. 

“Max Jagerman has made all our lives a living heck. We must strip him of his power.” 

Charlie pinched the bridge of her nose, “And how are we going to do that?” 

“With a little help from the father, the son, and the holy spirit.” 

She grinned. None of them liked the look on Grace’s face. Not one bit. But, the six of them decided Max Jagerman needed to be knocked down a peg or two. 

Steph tried to keep her face neutral, not wanting the others (besides Grace) to know what she knew. That this was how their doom came about. But, she was determined that it would be different this time. 

It had to be. 

Chapter Text

Pete, Ruth, and Richie were having a hushed conversation when Steph and Charlie pulled up outside the Waylon place. Grace was set to arrive separately. The three nerds jumped as the two girls arrived but nobody mentioned it. 

Charlie looked around, “Where’s Grace?” 

The rolling of bike wheels onto gravel made them all turn their heads. Grace was walking her pink bicycle up the path, stopping before all of them. 

“Hi guys!” She said chipperly. 

They all groaned, trying their best not to think about the fact that Max would kill them if he knew what was happening. He’d definitely not be happy with his sister, that’s for sure. Steph knew Max trusted Charlie with everything he had, if he knew that she was telling them how to get away with scaring the pants off him, he’d feel like she betrayed him. She’s already seen it, her best friend dead on the library floor, apologies written in her blood. 

“There it is.” Grace said, looking at the others.

Pete frowned, “Isn’t this like, breaking and entering?”

“I’m not breaking anything! My dad’s the realtor!”

She holds up the keys and shakes them. 

Grace opened the door and led them in, “The house was built in 1910 by Matthias and Agatha Waylon. Wealthy, eccentric, they went on to build the city’s most important landmarks like The Starlight Theatre, The Gazette. Even the schoolhouse that would one day become Hatchetfield High. They took a back waterlog in town and turned it into their own personal paradise where they were free to indulge in their eclectic interests.” 

Ruth frowned, asking, “W-what kind of interests?”

“Oh yeah. A little Satanism. Human sacrifices, demonic rituals, sex magic!” Grace explained. 

Charlie and Steph shared a look while the other three were looking around at the walls and floor and rotting wood. 

“Eventually, the people of Hatchetfield got fed up with this cult. An angry mob burst through those doors and found The Waylons and their followers and hacked them to bloody bits. But as they say, nothing really dies in The Waylon House. Their angry spirits haunt these halls to this very day.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Charlie asked, already done with this whole thing. 

“When Max Jagerman comes in contact with these ‘ghosts’? We’re gonna film the whole thing. We’re gonna post a video of him crying for his mommy, wetting himself with fear! And then, he will cease to be the most terrifying, hottest bully in Hatchetfield! He will forever be known as #PottyPants.”

“Hottest?” Charlie muttered, looking at the other girl with raised eyebrows. 

It was odd to her that so many people thought that her brother was attractive when he behaved the way he did. Steph had to agree, she did not understand why people thought Max was attractive. But then again, her type was nerds. Specifically one nerd who didn’t even remember sacrificing himself to save her life or holding her in his arms when she had a nightmare or comforting her when she would cry about her father. 

She looked towards Pete as he wandered and felt a pang through her heart. She needed him to remember so she could finally hug him again. To feel his heartbeat in her ear as she held him tight. 

“Potty pants?” Steph asked, “How about pissy pants?” 

“I’m not comfortable with the plan if it includes that kind of language.” Grace remarked. 

“I’m not comfortable with this place. It’s not structurally sound,” Pete said, placing a foot against a piece of wood and stepping on it.

The beam creaked oddly as he applied pressure to it. Richie and Ruth pulled him away from it, lest he fall through. That’s the last thing they needed right now, their plan derailing because they had to take Pete to the hospital. 

“Steph,” Grace gestured at her, “is gonna tell Max that something super fun is going on at the Waylon place. Like a bible study.” 

“How about a party?” Steph tried. 

“Fine, sure. Come on guys, we can do this!” Grace exclaimed, upbeat, “We’re gonna bully the bully. We’re gonna film him losing his cooly. We’re gonna make it spooky.”

She snapped and spun around, keeping her footing despite all the rotting wood beneath them.

Peter shook his head, “It’s goofy.”

“Got a better plan?” 

Richie put his fist in his palm, determined, “We’ll make him shit his pants!”

“The Jägerman?” Ruth asked, unconvinced. 

Grace nodded at her side, taking Ruth by the shoulders excitedly, “We’re gonna invoke his fury by making him freak prematurely. And then we’ll have him judged by a jury in the public eye. He’s just a nerd in disguise."

She snapped and then spun again, her backpack almost flying off this time. Steph reached out a hand as the girl stumbled. Charlie tried to help but backed up to avoid getting hit by the small bag. 

She had remembered thinking this was odd the first time Grace did it. Knowing she was doing it consciously now was making it hard for Steph to control her laughter. 

Steph looked down at the girl, amused, “Okay, why do you keep doing that?”

Grace didn’t respond, pointing instead at the others, “Petey got the blanket. Ruthie you’re in charge of techie. And Richie tapes.”

“What's our budget?”

“Stephie’s gonna lure him in with her charm.”

Steph scoffed, “I am?”

“And once we get him walking in the haunted and ancient old Waylon place…”

“Yeah?” They all asked at the same time. 

“Petey gonna jump on out. Jäger gonna Jäger out.”

They all nodded, liking the sound of it. If they could scare Max so badly, maybe he’d see that he didn’t need to be a bully. Maybe things would become normal. Maybe Ruth would finally talk to Charlie outside of rehearsals.

“We’re gonna bully the bully. We’re taking back the schooly, schooly. We’re gonna make a dirty movie where the losers win and the joke is on him.”

Grace held a hand over her heart, “We got a fealty, a duty.”

“Standing for the nerdy, the prudy.” Richie continued, doing the same. 

Charlie nodded, “Overturning and dethroning the viking, gonna wreck his ship.”

“We’re gonna cut off his nips!”

They all cheered. Ruth had the spirit, she was just a little too horny about it. Charlie caught her eye and the other girl mouthed a quiet sorry. It is her brother they were discussing after all. 

“We’ll spill his guts, we’ll steal his lunch, we’ll beat him up.”

Grace shook her head, “No, we’re gonna be real cool. To beat a Jägerman, you can’t beat him where he’s most equipped. He’s twice our size, he’s maximized, but we know how to strategize and use our tools.”

“So we’re not gonna kick his ass?”

“Do you wanna conserve your mass?” She sighed, “We’re gonna bully the bully. We’re gonna rule the unruly. He’s gonna dooky his booty.”

Steph grinned, “And our problem’s solved. And the school can evolve.”

“We’re gonna get the jock pleading. Watch the incumbent conceding. We’re gonna make nerdy the new thing. We’ll fight sin with sin. Let the games begin!”

Charlie scuffed her foot against the floor, “So like, how can I help?”

The others turned to her as if they forgot she was there for a moment. They looked unsure now, almost as if she’d cost this entire thing. But she knew her brother needed to be taught a lesson. And Steph knew that she knew it. 

She had been subjected to many a rant about how Max needed to cool his jets because he was not the only person in the world who had problems. He could learn to deal with them in a different way. The only problem was, Charlie wasn’t coping with her issues in a healthy way so when she would say this, Steph usually took it with a grain of salt. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ruth asked, uncertain. 

She nodded, “Max may be my brother but he needs to calm the fuck down. I’m sure.” 

“Alright.” Ruth nodded, understanding. 

“Well,” Richie started, “What’s he scared of?”

So she went into a list of things that actually scared Max.

“Remember, make sure he actually shows, okay?” Steph said, “He has a habit of blowing me off when I invite him places.” 

Charlie gave the girl a mock salute, “Aye aye captain.” 

Chapter Text

Charlie was in charge of leading her bumbling douche of a twin brother to the Waylon place after supposedly getting an invite, courtesy of Steph, to a party. Usually she wouldn’t go to parties, they were too much for her, but Max always showed. He had a reputation to uphold after all. This time, Max was way too happy that his sister was going with him to think anything was suspicious.

Richie peered through the lens of his camera, “Oh yeah! We’re shooting this prank in 4K, it’s gonna look beast! Uh, you think we can get a little more light in here?”

Grace turned after pulling a curtain over a nearby window, “Richie! The whole point is that it’s in the dark!”

“Well then, I’m gonna have to shoot the whole thing in a wide, and it’s gonna look like shit!”

Grace ignored him, though it hurt her to pretend that she didn't care about him, and walked away as Ruth entered the hall Richie was in, talking on her phone. 

“Wait, wait, wait don’t take me off your call list! No, I’m not gonna switch my internet provider, but I-I still wanna talk! Hello? Hello? Hello…”

“Who’s that?” Steph asked, even though she already knew the answer. 

Ruth jumped and pulled the phone away from her ear, “My boyfriend.”

“Sounds like a telemarketer.”

“Okay, my ex-boyfriend.”

Steph fought the laugh that bubbled up in her throat. God, she really missed her and Richie. Even if she didn’t know them all that well, seeing them in front of her, playing around with each other and Pete, just laughing and talking and being alive, it stung in a way she wasn’t ready for. It felt even heavier than seeing her father. 

“Okay,” Steph said, “Well, Charlie said that they’re on their way. You ready?” 

“I don’t know. I’m nervous.”

“No, no, no, don’t be. You got this.” Steph said, placing a hand on Ruth’s shoulder. 

The other girl glanced at her hand and then back to Steph’s face, “You’re like, super nice to me.”

Steph shrugged, pulling away, “Not really. I’m just doing the bare minimum here. I know Charlie’s much nicer to you.” 

And it hurt her to say that even if it was true. Charlie had always said that she and Ruth would get along, even if Steph thought she was too cool for the other girl. Knowing what she did now, having felt the tentative threads of friendship Ruth extended to her only to have them ripped to shreds by Max, this felt like a way to make up for it. She would save her. She would save them all. 

Ruth shrugged, “Well, it wouldn’t do good to not be nice to me at rehearsals. It’s not like the jocks ever go anyway.” 

Steph knew Ruth was right, she had gone to one of the shows once to support Charlie but once she found out that her best friend wasn’t in the show, she had left. Max, or any of the other jocks, had never even shown. 

Pete stepped out of the shadows, arms spread, “Uh, be honest, Richie. Am I reading as ghost, or Lin Manuel Miranda?”

“You kind of look like the Homeless Guy from downtown. But that could still work, he gets pretty scary sometimes. Even if Ruth thinks he’s psychic.” 

“You know, maybe I should lose the glasses.” Pete said, trying to figure out how to make himself look scarier. 

“Hey, Pete. Check it out.” Richie said, standing and patting Pete’s shoulder, “She came all the way out here, just to help you, buddy. She’s waiting for you.” 

“Really? You think Steph actually likes me?”

Richie frowned, “What? No! I’m talking about Ruth! She’s so fucking thirsty! You could just, uh, hit it and quit it, bro.” 

“Yeah,” Pete shook his head, “I don’t want to though.”

Richie sighed, “You’re fucking useless, Pete.”

Just then, Grace bounded into the room, “Alright! Everyone get to your post! Max Jagerman’s coming up the walkway. Operation Potty Pants is about to commence.” 

Charlie led the boy up to the door, hoping that everything was in place. They couldn’t afford to screw this up. Steph hoped that this wouldn’t end up like the first time around. Maybe this time she would tell Max to get down and he would avoid the jagged floorboards that lay waiting for him. Maybe he would realize he was a massive douche and he’d change his ways. Maybe he’d even go so far as to apologize and repent. 

She could help him live. She could stick her hand into the whirlpool of time Tinky had created and create a ripple, changing the outcome. She could win. 

Max opens the door, “Yo Steph, we’re here. We brought the brewskis.”

There’s no response from Steph and some weird, creepy music starts playing.

“Lottie?” Max whispered, leaning towards his sister and tensing up a bit. 

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

And suddenly Max was face-to-face with a “ghost”, who Steph knew was really Peter dressed up in a suit and some makeup, some white streamers attached to make him look otherworldly. Max dropped the box of beers at his feet as he screamed. 

“You have disturbed the spirits of Waylon Hall! Now your soul shall be ours!” said the “ghost”.

“Oh shit! Oh fuck, it’s a fucking ghost!” He pushed his sister behind him, “Get behind me!”

His cowering only lasted a few seconds though. Steph knew he was probably thinking of what his dad would say if he knew Max was afraid of a stupid ghost. So, of course, he decided to fight back because that’s all he knew how to do. Steph knew Max fought everything that moved because if he didn’t, he’d drown. 

“Okay, I’m gonna punch him. You’re gonna run.” He told his sister. 

She scoffed, “You can’t punch a ghost!”

“Watch me!”

He took a lunge at the ghost, which caused it to disappear. Mainly because Peter did not want to be punched by Max right now.

“Yes! I make the dead run in fear! I am Jägerman! I am God! Goooooo Nighthawks!”

The next part of the plan was for Ruth to wander out as a skeleton. Steph waved her in as her brother was distracted by his momentary victory. Ruth raised her arms to the side and swayed side to side as she walked in. 

“Oh shit! Oh fuck! I didn’t think there’d be a skele’un here! I’m so fucking sacred of skele’uns! Maybe we should just run?”

“Where?” Charlie asked, pretending to not be in on it. 

“Uh…” He paused, “I don’t know! Back home? No, dad would just call me a little cuck. Can’t even fight off one lousy skele’un? No. I have no choice.” He faced the skeleton, “Hey skele’un! I got a bone to pick with you, bitch! Come here!”

Max charged forward, ready to throttle the skeleton. Steph knew she had to put herself in front of him before Ruth got hurt. She would play the part, up until the very end. 

“Max!” Steph came out of the shadows. 

He immediately placed himself in front of Charlie and Steph, “There’s no way we can have a party here. It’s haunted as shit!”

“It’s not real! It’s Peter Spankoffski. It was all a prank, a trick to scare the shit out of you, ‘cause you deserve it.”

Max paused and they could see the wheels in his brain start to turn. He seemed to put the whole thing together. 

“You’re telling me you nerds put this whole thing together just for me?” He looked at his sister, “Wow.”

Charlie looked at the floor, feeling guilty. Steph patted her shoulder, proud of her for going against him. 

“I thought you guys hated me. But, thanks.” He smiled, “This was really great.”

“You’re not pissed?” Peter tentatively asked. 

“Are you kidding? No, this is like, the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He ran up to the wood beams and jumped on it, “No! When the ghost came out and my heart was like…”

He mimicked the way his heart was beating in his chest. A loud repeating thump that barreled over and over again. Steph’s heart beat loudly in her own chest. This was it, the moment that had changed the course of fate. She subconsciously stepped closer to Max, her hands itching to grab him and pull him down. But she knew that if she did that, he’d get angry. So, she let him stay there. 

But then the wood creaked, shattering, and Steph knew that this was it. So, before Max could hurdle to his death, two hands grabbed his arm. He looked up, his eyes meeting with those of Steph’s. She wasn’t going to let him die this time, she was going to reverse it. 

“Max!” Charlie screamed. 

Steph called out, “Guys, a little help!”

Richie, Pete, and Ruth all rushed over and began helping Steph haul Max’s body up from the gaping hole.

“Grace! Charlie! Get the fuck over here!”

Grace quickly joined the others, Charlie not far behind. When they pulled Max onto the still intact floorboards, Charlie hugged her brother tight. 

“Oh my god, I thought you were going to die.”

“It’s okay, Lottie.” He whispered, “I’m right here.”

When they let go, it’s silent for a few seconds before the floor gave way one more time and Max actually dropped. Charlie let out a second scream and raced down to the first floor where Max laid, unconscious. The rest of them followed suit, finding her on her knees, pressing her fingers to her brother’s pulse. 

“Is he breathing?”

“He’s got a pulse. But it’s faint.” Charlie sniffled, “Call the ambulance!”

Pete immediately took out his phone and handed it to Steph who was much more level headed. Charlie was whispering things to her brother, gripping one of his hands so tight that her knuckles were white. The nerd squad were panicking and Grace was just staring with wide eyes. 

“They’re on their way.” Steph told the group. “Five minutes.”

She nodded numbly and continued talking to her brother. She’s not sure if he could hear her but she had to try. She needed him to be okay, she couldn’t lose anyone else. Without Max, she’d have to face her father head on. Without him, she’d surely die too. 

Chapter Text

The ride to the hospital was quiet. Charlie held Max’s hand the whole way there. Pete called Ted to come pick him and the others up. 

Steph couldn’t help but think about everything she and Grace would need to talk about. She caught Pete looking at her with curiosity as Ted drove. She glanced towards the older man, wondering if she would see even a sliver of remembrance in him. But she knew that he had forgotten her. Had forgotten the nights where they had talked, the nights where she showed up unannounced to sleep on his couch so the emptiness would fade. Had forgotten the bittersweet moments where she had cried or Pete had about the death of their friends, where he comforted them. 

Grace rode her bike, solemn and alone. She was thinking that she should have done more to help Steph, as both girls knew this was coming. Instead, she froze, panicked. She was aware of the dangers and did nothing to change the course of their fate. Would she be like this in the end? When it came down to making the ultimate play? Would she be able to protect her friends? She didn’t know. 

The five of them met Charlie in the lobby, waiting for any sign of news that Max would be alright. They knew for a fact that he was unconscious and had broken his left leg, as it had been bent when they got to him. They just needed to know he would wake up again.

“Charlotte Jagerman?” 

She stood abruptly from the chair, ripping her hand out of Stephs’. Steph had been holding it to give her some comfort. She wasn’t sure whether that was for Charlie’s sake or her own. Because, this hadn’t happened the first time around. No, instead, they had dismembered Max’s body and left him to rot underneath the floorboards of the Waylon Place. And he had come back with a vengeance. 

But now, things are different. Steph had altered the course of fate and she wasn’t sure how it would play out. As she caught Grace’s eyes from across the room, she knew that they needed to talk. To plan for what would happen when Max woke up, if he would be the same kind of angry he was the first time around or if maybe, they could make a difference. Then maybe, they could break free from this curse. Maybe they could start over.  

Charlie turned to the doctor, “Yes? What is it? Is he awake?” 

The doctor sighed, addressing the group, “I’m afraid not. He’s alive and will stay that way. But, we have no idea when he will wake up.”

“No idea?” Charlie asked, getting upset. 

“The height of the fall knocked Max right out. He’ll wake up but it may be some time. In that time, we’ll look to see if he suffered any head or brain injuries. Speaking of injuries, he has many bruises and has broken his left leg while shattering three bones in the right. He’ll need surgery. As for his upper body, his left shoulder was dislocated and he shattered his right wrist.” 

Charlie’s hands flew to her mouth upon hearing the extent of his injuries. Max was alive but he wasn’t going to last one day being confined to that hospital bed, not that he had any other choice. 

“Thank you, doctor,” she whispered.

Steph stood and walked over to her friend, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Hey. He’s gonna be okay.” 

Charlie nodded numbly, the other four looking between the two girls with worry. None of them knew what to do or where to go from here. Steph knew it had to be her call. 

“We’re gonna stay,” Steph said, looking at the others, “You guys go home. I’ll update you when we know more.” 

Pete nodded, trusting Steph’s judgement, corralling the group in the waiting room. Richie and Ruth followed behind him, Richie fiddling with Ruth’s fingers as a nervous stim while Ruth just stared numbly at the ground.  

Grace stared at the two girls, a sick feeling churning in her stomach. She had to tell herself that it was just god’s will that did this, that Max was being punished because of all the things he had done. A small voice in the back of her head said it was her fault, that she could have done more, but if she focused too long on that, she’d unravel.

“Would you like to see him?” The doctor asked and Charlie nodded. 

Steph reached over to squeeze her hand, “I’ll be right there.”

Charlie smiled at her in thanks and then walked down the hall with the doctor, leaving Grace and Steph standing in the waiting room. Steph watched the other girl, studying her. She seemed shaken by what had happened, clearly understanding that it was different from the first time around. 

“Hey,” Steph said clearly, crossing towards her, “It’s okay. He’s not dead.”

It sounded almost like she was trying to convince herself that, instead of Grace. They had heard what the doctor said, he was in a coma, so they had at least changed that one course of action. But Steph wouldn’t blame Grace if she was nervous. Steph was too, after all. She had no idea just how much this altered the course of time. 

“I know.” She whispered, “I’m just…”

“Scared?” 

Grace nodded, “What if this messes things up? What if Tinky doesn’t like that we’re changing the timeline.” 

“Screw him,” Steph said, “And screw his fucked up version of time.”

“Language,” Grace muttered, like she couldn’t help herself. 

Steph chuckled softly but her heart wasn’t in it. She knew Grace was scared, hell, she was scared herself. But she owed it to the others to try. 

“It’ll be okay, Grace,” She reassured the girl, “We’ll get through this.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I don’t know. I just feel it.” 

Steph sighed and ran her hands through her hair. She had saved Max. Just a couple inches closer to the floorboards that were sticking up and he would have been pierced right through his chest. But she did it, she stopped him from dying. Now all she could do was hang on for the ride. 

Chapter Text

In the weeks that Max was in the hospital, the rumor mill ramped up ranging from transfers to Mister Jagerman having killed his only son. Each rumor made the nerds feel like they were living a lie. 

Kyle placed his hands on his hips, smiling, “Who’d’ve thunk that the negative influence of one person can be so much better once they’re gone?”

Brenda grinned, “I know, right! I can’t wait to watch you play tonight, Kyle.” 

“And I can’t wait to watch you cheer. You know, cheering takes just as much skill as football does. Sometimes I think you’re the main event and we’re just there to support you gals.” 

“You’re so hot when you’re sweet.”

“Ew,” Steph whispered to Charlie who nodded, lost in thought. 

“Oh, thank God Max is gone.” 

Charlie froze, coming back to the present with that. Realistically, she knew her brother was a literal monster but to think people that considered him friends, though that was a bit of a stretch, would be this happy he was presumed dead?

Steph noticed Charlie’s reaction and frowned, “Wasn’t he your friend?” 

“Well, yeah,” Kyle said, shrugging, “but he forbade me from dating and he wrecked my dad’s Skidoo. Fuck that guy!” 

“Good for you, babe.” 

The two shared a quick kiss and walked off. Charlie groaned and laid her head on her arms. She could see that life was better with her brother in the hospital, but she felt small when everybody seemed to be so much happier. Without Max around, her father had begun berating her. He never put his hands on her, not yet at least, but the words still bounced around her skull. On top of all that, nobody had even asked how she was doing, just looked the other way. 

Steph patted her knee sympathetically and then stood up, “Hey Pete, wait up! Good news.” 

She pulled a piece of paper, the latest biology test, out of her backpack and passed it over to him. He took it, reading the grade at the top. 

“You passed the test?” 

“With flying colours.” 

“C+. Steph, that’s amazing.” 

She grinned, “Yeah, my dad couldn’t believe it. I got my phone back and everything. And uh… I couldn’t have done it without you helping me study these last two weeks. You know this…” She tapped the paper, “this is really your C+.” 

“You can keep it Steph.” He pushed it back towards her, “It’d really bring down my GPA.”

She giggled, “You’re such a nerd, Spankoffski.” 

“Wow…” He paused, “that’s the first time anyone’s called me a nerd since that night.” He leaned in closer to her, “Steph, I’m trying to feel bad about what we did but it is really hard to do that when everything is just objectively better. I’m only hoping it stays that way when Max wakes up.” 

“Yeah,” Steph glanced back towards her best friend, “it’s weird. Maybe it’s for the best? So, you going to the big game tonight?” 

If the subject change was abrupt, Pete didn’t notice it, too busy staring at the pretty girl in front of him. 

“Oh. No, Max doesn’t let nerds go to football…” He paused, “Huh. You know, maybe I will. I’ve never been to a football game before.” 

Steph chuckled, “They’re really boring and both teams kinda suck but uh, we can go sarcastically. You know, get some popcorn, it might be cool.” 

“You mean like, go together?” 

“If you want.” 

Pete nodded, “Okay.” 

She smiled, “Okay. Cool. I’ll see you there.”

Pete turned and grinned, walking towards his locker. A pretty girl wanted to be seen with him! In public!

He passed Charlie who was laying down on a bench. He felt bad for her, that it was her twin brother who everybody was bad-mouthing, but he knew she was aware of how bad he was. I mean, it was the whole reason she had helped them with the prank in the first place. Pete didn’t necessarily want Max to die, like she didn’t, but if life was better… Well, it seemed there was some correlation there. 

Ruth sat down on the bench, startling the other girl, “Hey, Charlie.” 

Charlie stared at her, confused, then remembered that because Max was in the hospital he wouldn’t beat her up for talking to his sister. For even looking in her direction. Max had done that once, but to be fair, the guy who did that was a perv so he deserved it. 

“Uh, hey.” 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ruth asked, giggling. 

“I’m just surprised,” Charlie admitted, “I mean, you’ve never spoken to me outside of rehearsals before.” 

“Well, uh,” Ruth rubbed her hands up and down her arms, “Max would’ve killed me.” 

Charlie nodded in understanding. She sat up, wondering why Ruth was talking to her now, though.

“So, what’s up?” 

“I just wanted to check on you,” Ruth admitted, “I mean, Max is your brother. And everyone thinks he transferred or died! And they’re happy about it!” 

Charlie sighed, “Yeah. It’s, uh, fucked. But, I mean, Max was awful. It’s not surprising, really.” 

“He’s still your brother,” Ruth argued. 

Charlie looked around then stood, grabbing Ruth by the hand. She pulled the other girl into a nearby closet, closing the door behind them. It was a little cliche but it was the closest place that Charlie could think of where nobody would overhear her. Where she could talk freely. 

“Charlie?” Ruth asked quietly, “Are you okay?” 

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, “I’ve just been thinking. About Max… He can’t die, Ruth.” 

Her eyes began to water, shaking her head. 

“He’s all I have.” 

The girl began to sob. Ruth pulled the girl into a hug, rubbing her hands up and down her back to comfort her.

Charlie pulled back and sniffled, wiping her eyes, “Sorry. I…” 

“Don’t apologize,” Ruth said immediately.

“Steph is, um, the only one who knew how I was feeling and then you asked me if I was okay and wanted to check on me and I just…” 

“Broke down?” Ruth offered, the other girl nodding. “It’s okay, CC. You’re safe here.” 

“CC?” The other girl asked, sniffling. 

Ruth blushed, “Sorry, I heard Steph call you that and I thought…”

“I like it.” Charlie said, smiling a bit. 

“Okay,” Ruth smiled back, “And, you know you can talk to us, right? Like, I know we’re not really friends but I can be here for you.” 

“What are you talking about?” The other girl asked, shocked, “We’re friends, Ruth.” 

“We are?” 

“Are we not?” 

Ruth shrugged, “I wasn’t sure. I know I can be a lot, as can Richie and Pete. And, yeah, I know Steph is kinda friends with us, moreso Pete than Richie and I, and Grace is, well, Grace. But, we weren’t sure where you stood.” 

“I’d like to think we’re friends,” Charlie admitted, “I mean, you’re comforting me after I got snot all over your sweater.” 

“You could get other things on it.” Ruth said, not even thinking. 

Charlie chuckled, “No, thanks.”

Ruth let out a laugh and Charlie looked at her.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Ruth asked quietly. 

“Yeah. I think so.” She smiled, “Thanks. For being sincere even if I’m not convinced you’re Ruth Fleming since you haven’t even made a sex joke.”

“Well sorry I was worried about you,” Ruth said, pouting a little, “Just like your dad will be when he finds out I went down on your mom.” 

Charlie rolled her eyes but she was happy to see that Ruth was back to herself. It’s not that she didn’t want the girl to care about her, it was just complicated.

Ruth nodded, letting Charlie lead the way out of the closet. Ruth was concerned for the girl, but she didn’t want to be pushy. Ruth watched Charlie go, wondering if she would let Ruth be there for her. Now, and in the future. 

Chapter Text

Steph and Grace sat across from Miss Holloway at the diner once more. They were determined to figure out a plan, to set something else in motion. Saving Max from falling to his death at the Waylon Place had been a good start but it wasn’t enough. 

With Max now in a coma and things looking up at Hatchetfield High, it gave the two girls plenty of time to come up with a plan of how to convince the others they were living the same day over again. 

Neither one of them liked seeing that damned book but they knew they had to use it. Even if it still caused Steph to shiver when she touched it and Grace to recoil like she had been burned. Because the Black Book didn’t whisper. It bled.

Ink pooled across its pages like it was alive, like the words didn’t just want to be read, they wanted to be remembered. 

Steph ran her fingers over a map etched in charcoal: a crude blueprint of Hatchetfield High. A door leading to the gym. A ritual that was never finished. A circle drawn in bone dust, left incomplete.

“I can’t ask you girls to do this,” Miss Holloway said, looking down at the book. 

“We have to,” Steph said, adding on quietly, “I have to.” 

Grace nodded, “Please, Miss Holloway. Let us help you.” 

Miss Holloway sighed. She knew it would be easier with some help but she had figured it would be Duke who went along with her and not the girls. She didn’t want to say she was attached, as they would just forget about her when this was all over and done with, but she had grown fond of the teens. 

They needed the woman just as much as she needed them, Steph even more so. With a lack of a mother figure in her life, Steph had stuck herself to Miss Holloway’s side like a leech. She soaked up any and all attention the older woman gave her, basking in it. It hurt Miss Holloway’s heart to know that she couldn’t give the girl the love and care she deserved, but this was how it would always be. A life lived lonely, helping when she could yet knowing she would be forgotten. 

“We have to go there,” Steph said.

Convincing the others to meet them in the gym was harder. 

Pete had always been a skeptic. From the first time they had planned to prank Max and then later on with the spell to summon the Lords in Black, he naturally had always seemed to wonder if things would work out. Grace and Steph knew that all Steph had to do to convince him to join was bat her eyes at him and plead in a tone that turned his knees to putty. It worked every time and Steph used that to her advantage. Ted would usually tease Pete about how easy he was but Steph knew he was proud of his brother for even getting a girl to look at him, let alone the mayor’s daughter. 

Richie as well. He held an air of paranoia everytime he walked through the halls. Richie had always been bullied. He had blue hair, lived for his letterboxd account, and spoke about anime way too much to not be. Even worse, he used to naruto run around the halls to make Ruth and Pete laugh. So, there was plenty of ammunition for the jocks to choose from and that made stuffing Richie into lockers so much easier. But when Max ended up in the hospital and the jocks left him alone, he was suspicious. Like he hadn’t seen what happened with his own two eyes. So, Steph had to get creative and tell him that they needed his film-making expertise in order to get him onboard. 

Ruth was always down for a side quest, so she said. Hence why she was ready to participate in Grace’s prank. She never thought anyone who was popular would want anything to do with her so when Charlie Jagerman and Stephanie Lauter had hung around, she knew she would do anything they asked her to. It also didn’t hurt that she got to spend time with her ever-growing crush. And that the girl seemed to want to spend time with her in return. So, telling Ruth that she got to hang out with her friends, Charlie, Steph, and Grace, while doing something she never thought possible? Easiest yes of her life. 

Charlie was the most difficult. Getting her to do anything that would upset her father and make him lash out at her or Max was going to be hard. She lived and breathed for her brother, even if she knew he needed to be knocked down a peg. So, with Max in the hospital and her spending all her time between, there, school, and work, she would be difficult to convince that she had to step away. In the end, Steph was able to get her to agree by telling her that Max needed her to conduct a ritual in the school’s gym, that he would survive only if she did. 

When the two girls took the four teens to the diner, showed the others the Black Book and introduced them to Miss Holloway, they could see that they were only growing more concerned. 

Charlie stared at the map, then quietly nodded. Steph knew she remembered something then, watching the look in her best friend’s eyes. Maybe she remembered sobbing over her brother’s bloody body, hands trembling as she held the ax and chopped off his legs. Maybe she was remembering burying him in the dirt, tears staining her face as she dug. Maybe she was remembering the fear she felt when they found out Richie had died, or the heartbreak when she found Ruth in the auditorium. Maybe she was remembering the pain she had felt when her brother, her twin, had stuck his hand in through her ribcage and toyed with her heart.  

Richie, however, laughed in their faces, “A demon book? What is this, Death Note?”

Grace frowned, looking at Ruth, “You were singing. When the blood started coming out.”

“And you,” Steph turned to look at Richie, “Were so happy to be part of the team.”

Richie paled but didn’t argue again. 

“What do you want from us?” Pete asked, looking between the two girls. 

“To remember,” Steph begged, her eyes tearing up when they landed on Pete.

Charlie cleared her throat, “I do.” 

The nerd-squad turned towards her, eyes wide. She had a haunted look on her face and her hands were trembling. She didn’t say anything as she rushed forward and pulled Richie and Ruth into a hug. Steph let out a relieved chuckle, stepping forward to do the same. Pete and Grace just stared as the two girls hugged the shocked teens. 

“Uh, Charlie?” Richie asked, unsure of what was going on. “What are you doing?” 

“You were my friend, Richie,” Charlie said quietly, “And I never got to tell you. So I’m doing it now.”

“Yeah,” Steph agreed, “You can’t get rid of us Lipschitz.” 

Richie grinned, “Alright, Lauter. If you insist.” 

The girls let them go and when they stepped back, Ruth had a bright blush on her cheeks. Charlie giggled at the look and Ruth blushed even more. Then Charlie turned and hugged Grace as well which surprised the others again. 

“I’m so sorry, Gracie,” She whispered into her hair, holding her tight. 

Grace’s knees buckled a little at her words and Steph moved over to hold onto the two of them. An anchor in the storm of emotions that were sure to come. Grace wiped away the tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around Charlie. 

After everything, the two had become close. Grace needed reassurance that she wasn’t a dirty girl for what she had done and Charlie had taken her hands and showed her that she was still Grace Chasity. She was broken, pieces of herself laying at her feet, but her friends glued them back together and laced them with liquid gold, keeping her in place. 

The girls pulled away from each other and looked at the other three. None of them seemed to remember anything from before but Steph wasn’t worried. She just needed to give them time, that was all. 

Chapter Text

Duke found himself wandering the pediatric hospital wing, looking for a specific room. He knew Max had ended up in the hospital, Becky Barnes had called him when it happened because she didn’t know who else to call, who else these two would be able to go to. 

He was thinking about the talk Miss Holloway wanted to have with Richie, Peter, and Ruth, possibly Charlie as well, as he wandered. She hadn’t found the right time to talk to them yet, still satisfied with her answers from Hannah, but he knew she would do it soon. If they went on for too long without knowing, she believed they’d be in danger. 

Duke sighed, checking another name on the door. It wasn’t Max. He knew Charlie would most likely be in the room as she had presumably been worried sick about him ever since. Max hadn’t woken up yet and the doctors were still unsure if he would. Duke knew he would though, he was Max Jagerman, nothing would keep him down. 

He saw Charlie sitting next to a bed, one of her brother’s hands in her own. 

“Heya, Char.” Duke said entering the room. 

When she looked up, she had tear tracks on her face so she must have been crying before he got there. 

“Duke?” She asked, “What are you doing here?” 

“Wanted to check in on you.” He said, then added, “And Max.”

She motioned to the other chair for him to sit and he took it. 

“He’s okay,” Charlie said, shrugging, “Alive but, you know.” 

Duke nodded. These kids, all they had was each other. Their father didn’t give a shit about them and they didn’t have any other relatives he could find so they had to stick it out with Mister Jagerman until they were eighteen. He had tried to get the HFPD to arrest Jagerman for neglect but he was a pillar in the community and the police wouldn’t do anything. He then tried to put them in foster care but they didn’t want to be separated and it was hard not to separate siblings.

“Becky says you’ve been sleeping here?” he asked. 

“Snitch,” the girl muttered under her breath causing Duke to huff a laugh. 

Really, the nurse had told him because she was concerned, whether that be for Charlie’s mental health or because she was worried something else had happened. 

“What’s going on, kid?” 

“If I tell you,” She started looking at him, “You can’t put me in foster care. Not without Max.” 

He nodded, unsure of what she was about to say. All he knew was that he was not going to like it. 

“My dad kicked me out.” She sighed, “I’ve been living in my car for about a month or so now. Sleeping and eating at the hospital when I get the chance. Otherwise all my meals are from work.” 

“Charlie…” He started but she shook her head. 

“I didn’t want you to know because I was scared.” She sniffled, tears in her eyes, “That I’d lose Max.” 

“You won’t,” he promised her. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” 

“You just have to trust me.” He said, looking at her. “Can you do that?” 

She nodded and wiped at her eyes, looking towards her brother’s sleeping figure. Duke looked too, wondering if he stared long enough, he could see what she saw. He knew that they were good kids, that Max was only the way he was because of the events with his father. But those kids… They were painted in the colors that dusted each other’s hearts, hands and feet dirtied with the twist and turn of each other’s souls. 

“I hope Max wakes up soon.” 

She sighed, “Me too.”

He rose from the chair when a nurse came in to check Max’s vitals. He paused in the doorway to look at them one last time. He hoped Miss Holloway could help them, whether that be with the Black and White, or with their situation in general. 

Chapter Text

Going to school the following week was a hassle for the teens. They each felt weary and like something was out to get them. Steph and Grace especially. Grace had noticed that time felt like it was moving syrupy slow as if she was swimming through molasses. Steph, on the other hand, felt like no matter where she turned, she ended up right back at the beginning. 

They had noticed their friends being affected as well. Paul, Richie’s Uncle, had mentioned to them one afternoon that he was worried Richie was sleeping too much. Apparently, he would come home from school and nap until dinner. His friends reassured him and his girlfriend, Emma, that everything was fine. Paul didn’t seem to buy it but he didn’t pressure them to reveal anything else. 

The adults had heard about what happened at the Waylon Place, Ruth accidentally spilling it to Paul, Ted, and Emma when she and Pete were at Richie’s one afternoon. So, they knew that the kids were becoming friends. It still was a bit jarring to walk into their living rooms and see Grace Chasity, Stephanie Lauter, and Charlie Jagerman hanging out with their gaggle of nerdy teens. But, the girls were sweet, and they genuinely wanted to be friends with their kids. There was nothing they could do to stop that. 

Max didn’t wake up until late Sunday evening. The doctors and nurses ran tests and did check ups, trying to get him to see what he remembered and all that. He remembered the prank, the almost falling, and then the big fall. He remembered it all. 

He was lying in the bed, staring out the window. He had no idea what time it was as he flipped through channels on the dingy tv in the corner. When Charlie had left that morning, she told him she’d be there after work to check on him. 

He wasted his time napping and flicking through the tv channels. Nurses would come and go, asking him questions and seeing if he needed anything. He never did. 

“Hey, Maxxy,” Charlie said, entering the room. 

He hadn’t seen her come in, hadn’t heard her. He must have been lost in his own brain, thinking about the events that landed him here. 

“You feeling okay? Need me to get the nurse or anything?” 

He swallowed down the angry lump that grew in his throat at the sight of his sister. He knew she cared about him but she had also told those nerds everything that made him afraid, everything except for their father. 

“Get out.” He said, turning to look back at the window. 

“Max…”

“Go home, Lottie.” 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, crossing to the chair by the bed and sitting down. 

He could tell she had been using it a lot, there was no other person it could have been. Perhaps Duke but he figured the man didn’t even know he was here. 

“We just wanted…” 

“To kill me?” 

“No!” She shouted, then shrunk in on herself, “No. It was supposed to be harmless.” 

“I could have died, Lottie.” 

Max had been thinking about that. His whole life could have ended in the Waylon place and it would have all been thanks to those nerdy prudes and his sister. His sister who he thought he could rely on. Who he thought that no matter how he acted, would be there for him. But no, she helped lure him there in the first place, she made him go.

She looked at the floor, “I know.” 

The monitors beeped, indicating his rising heart rate. He was pissed. How dare they think they could kill him, hurt him, and get away with it. No, Max was going to get his revenge. 

“When I get out of here,” He said, voice cold, “No one can stop me. Not you. Not Steph. Certainly not those dumb fucks you think are your friends.” 

“Max,” Charlie warned, eyes wide, “It wasn’t like that.” 

“You wanted me to die.” 

“No!” Charlie sighed and rubbed a hand over her face, “Yes, you were a piece of shit and deserved to be knocked down a few pegs but I would never want you dead.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, sure.”

“Never.” She stood in front of him now, turning his face to look her in the eyes. “Do you hear me?” 

Max looked at his sister now, really looked at her. She looked exhausted, black circles under her eyes, tears welling up. She was a bit run-down, skinner than he remembered too, like she hadn’t been eating. He noticed the couple of burn marks on her arms from the hot coffee at work, some she probably left on purpose to ease the guilt in her heart. She was afraid for him. She cared. 

“Okay.” He said, starting to believe her. “Then why?” 

“You think that just because our lives suck, you need to make everyone else’s miserable too.” She explained, “I love you, Maxxy, but the world does not revolve around you.” 

“You know why…” He started only to get interrupted.

“Of course I do.” She said, “But there are other ways to handle it.” 

“Like how you do?” He snapped, angrily. 

Her jaw ticked and the tears came back, “That’s not fair.” 

He sighed, knowing it was true. She had done everything she could to make sure their father wouldn’t kill them. While Max took the physical beatings, she took the emotional ones. When their father had called Max stupid and all those other things, she would district him, shove a beer in his hand and tell him that there was something on tv he wanted to watch. 

She learned how to cook at a young age so they wouldn’t starve. She worked to pay for the house while Max played football to draw attention from his father, to give him something to worry about that wasn’t the two of them. They grew up fast so Hatchetfield, and their father, couldn’t drown them. They were buoys, floating together in the roughest waters but somehow surviving. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

“Max,” She said, reaching out to take his hand, “We only wanted you to stop bullying everyone. We didn’t know the floor would give out. Okay?” 

He nodded, tears coming to his eyes now, “Okay. I believe you.”

She squeezed his hand, letting him have a moment. He had come to terms with it, for the most part, that he almost died in that house. But at this moment, it really hit him. 

If he had died, would anyone have shown up to his funeral besides his sister? He couldn’t name a single person who would, not even Richie and the guy had saved his life. Maybe Steph but that would be for Charlie’s sake and not his. Maybe Duke but the guy was busy, why would he take the time? 

“I…” he started, squeezing his eyes shut to block the tears, “I think I want to be better. I don’t know how, but I do.” 

“That’s a start, Max.” His sister said, squeezing his hand again, “A good start.” 

It was silent in the hospital room for a moment, the two siblings taking in the fact that they hadn’t lost each other. 

“Do you, um…” Charlie started once Max had opened his eyes again, “Would you talk to Duke about it? See if there are anger management classes you could take?” 

Max paused, thinking, “Sure, I guess. I mean, that’s what started all this, right?” 

She nodded and smiled at him, happy that he was seemingly willing to make the change. They left the conversation there, Charlie filling him in on mundane nonsense from the “outside” world. He was alive and he was gonna change. Max Jagerman, the literal monster, would be no more. 

Chapter Text

Visitors weren’t allowed again until the third day he was awake, just to be safe. Charlie texted Steph the news and she, along with the others, decided to join her at the hospital after school. They’d all been waiting to say their apologies to her brother. 

Steph and Grace especially. They had to make sure Max knew they didn’t mean for this to happen or no change could even occur. Because they knew that Max Jagerman was the catalyst behind it all. And if they could put even a bit of hope into his head, then maybe, all of this wouldn’t be for naught. 

“Max?” Charlie asked, poking her head in. “You’ve got visitors. You up for it?”

He nodded and tried to wiggle to situate himself better. Charlie helped him get settled and when he was ready, he nodded again. She opened the door again. The group filed into the room and stared at Max, a mix of emotions on their faces. 

“Hey, Max,” Steph started, “How are you doing?” 

“Better,” He answered honestly, “Real fucking sick of being cooped up here though.” 

“Language,” Grace muttered to herself. 

That got chuckles out of them and the tension eased a bit. Charlie took the seat next to the bed. Her eyelids drooped when she sat down. She hadn’t been sleeping well between being paranoid that something would happen to Max or to herself.

“We just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Peter said, “And to apologise for all of this.”

“It’s cool,” Max said quietly. 

Ruth and Richie shared a look, unconvinced. Grace was fiddling with her fingers, not looking at the bed. She had been praying to god every night that Max would recover and change his ways. To have hope was one thing, but to really see it, to know that her friends would survive in the end, was another. 

Steph narrowed her eyes, “Really?” 

“Yeah, you didn’t make me fall on purpose. I mean, you even tried to save me.” He explained, “That house is just… bad.”

“Old,” Charlie corrected, “And unstable. You guys didn’t do anything wrong.” Max nodded, agreeing. Charlie looked at him, “Have anything else you’d like to say?” 

Max nodded, “I’m not gonna bully you guys anymore. Well, I’m gonna do my best. Lottie and I talked and… You guys are cooler than that.”

The nerd squad and Grace were nodding with wide but nervous eyes. Steph smiled at her best friend and winked when she caught her eye. She was happy Max was taking the step to change. It meant that what she had done, what she and Grace had planned, was working. And Tinky, or Wiggly, or whoever the fuck could be damned. 

Steph grinned, “Now that’s what’s up.” 

“We’re still sorry, Max. I mean you could’ve died!” Ruth cried. 

Max grunted in pain and sat up a bit more, “I didn’t though.”

That made them all pause and take in his words. He was alive and he was still here, that’s what they should focus on. And that’s what they were gonna think about. 

Chapter Text

Life as a nerd was pretty rewarding for Peter Spankoffski. He stayed in the background, he cracked stupid science jokes with his friends, and he gained the attention of one Stephanie Lauter. Wait, what? 

Yeah, Pete could still not believe that the mayor’s daughter wanted to be around him, to hang out with him. Every time she looked at him it was like his heart wanted to jump out of his chest and dance. And yet, there was a sadness in her eyes, a pain that he could only describe as yearning. 

He sat at the breakfast table, eating a bowl of cereal since Ted hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a while, when he smelled it. The scent of a toilet stung the inside of his nose and he reached up to cover it. His head began to pound like a hammer was being repeatedly struck against the inside of his skull. 

He blinked, and for a moment he saw Richie’s body. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Max’s laughter echoing like thunder from somewhere far away.

Pete gasped and gripped the table. The windows shimmered. But when he looked again, just the sunrise. Just Hatchetfield. Just… now.

The next one hit during lunch. He was sitting with Ruth and Richie when he suddenly remembered wanting to text them and they weren’t there. When he remembered Steph holding his hand as the detective talked about Richie’s death, like he hadn’t just seen him the day before. When he remembered Grace’s frantic explanation as she told them about Ruth, about how they needed to dig up the Black Book to summon those same lords in black that were toying with them now. 

He gasped and when Richie and Ruth looked at him in concern, he tried to convince them that he was fine. Because he was fine, but they weren’t. 

He told Steph first. She seemed relieved that he remembered everything now. And when she pulled him into a hug, resting her head on his chest, he remembered what it felt like falling in love with her. And just how nice it was to have that warm, sickly sweet feeling envelop his bones again. How nice it was to rest his chin on the top of her head and wrap his arms around her waist and inhale the coconut shampoo she always wore. 

When she pulled back, she took one of his hands and squeezed it with a smile. He could have kicked himself. How could he have forgotten about her? The girl who he was ready to sacrifice himself for. The girl who meant everything to him. The thing he cherished most. 

“I remember,” He breathed quietly, into her hair, “I remember it all.”

~.~

Richie remembered next. He was always wary of being in the locker room since that was where the jocks had to be civil since he was the mascot, however, they always lurked around like they were just waiting to shove him and his suit into a locker. They probably were but he tried not to think too hard about it. 

The hair on his arms always rose as he changed for gym but he couldn’t never figure out why. It wasn’t superstition. It wasn’t trauma. It was something else.

Like if he stood there too long, he might be pulled back to the moment his lungs filled with blood and water, and Max Jagerman’s hands were around his neck, laughing like it was funny .

And now, he remembered.

He remembered how nervous he had been before conducting the prank. Richie had known Max and Charlie since he was young, before they drifted apart. He had thought he knew how Max was going to react, with threats and a punch to the face. He hadn’t counted on Max being happy that they surprised him and made his heart beat like a drum. 

He remembered chopping up Max’s body at Grace’s suggestion. How heavy the ax felt in his hands when it was his turn to swing. How he thought Paul would be disappointed in him. How he knew he couldn’t ever look at the Waylon Place the same again. 

He remembered the day after the accident. How happy the students were. How people seemed to want to talk to him, be near him. How he hadn’t been stuffed in any lockers or had his head dunked in a toilet. 

He remembered Max taunting him at half-time. He was stuck in the mascot suit, sweat dripping from his hair. And Max had shown up and laughed at Richie’s love for being alive. Like taking candy from a baby. 

He remembered apologizing to Paul and Emma in his head. To his friends. For not being strong enough to withstand Max. 

He remembered it all. 

That night, Richie sat on the edge of his bed, trembling. Paul knocked on the door and asked if he wanted spaghetti. 

He didn’t answer. He didn’t eat.

He just pulled his knees to his chest and whispered, “I died.”

The memory played in reverse now. Over and over. Max’s voice, taunting him. His cold laughter as his life faded away. And then he was choking, and the lights were flickering, and Max’s face was split open with that awful, god-tier grin…

And then nothing. The town outside was quiet. Safe. Hatchetfield moved on. But Richie remembered.

Chapter Text

Max was trying to be better, that much Steph could see. But she knew that in order for anything to really change, Max needed to repent. Like get on his hands and knees and beg. And she knew it would have to start with Richie. 

Charlie had told her once that Max and Richie used to be good friends when they were small. But after their mom had disappeared and their father descended into the darkness that was alcohol and tobacco, Max had turned on the boy. 

So, she did what she had to do. She tricked Richie into meeting Max on the football field after practice so the two would finally talk things out. Because she needed them to. For this to work, to beat Tinky’s stupid game, they needed to. 

The football field was empty after dark. Just the tall lights buzzing overhead and the ghosts of every Friday night echoing in the bleachers.

Max sat on the 50-yard line, tossing a deflated football between his hands like he didn’t know what to do with it anymore. He felt haunted, not by demons, but by choices.

“Max,” Richie greeted him, quietly. 

Max lifted his head and stared at the boy. He seemed like he wanted to run, his fingers twisted in the hem of his anime shirt. Max only knew it was anime because he had seen that one with Richie when they were kids, just before he sharpened his teeth and bared his claws. Before he tore out Richie’s heart with his bare hands. 

“You here to yell at me?” he asked. “Or punch me?”

“No,” Richie admitted. “Steph made me come.” 

Max nodded, knowing what he was talking about. He had seen Steph, Grace, and his sister talking recently. He knew that they thought he and Richie needed to hash things out for the greater good or some stupid bullshit like that. 

Richie sat down beside him. There was a long, heavy pause, and then…

“Why’d you leave?”

Max blinked.

“What?”

Richie’s voice cracked. “When we were eight, you told me I was your best friend. That you’d beat up anyone who made fun of me. You said I was smart and funny and that we’d always stick together.”

He looked straight at Max now. Eyes full of years of hurt.

“And then one day, you laughed when other people called me names. You started doing it too . You spat in my hair. You made me feel small.”

Max said nothing.

“Why’d you leave, Max?” Richie whispered. “What did I do?”

Max’s throat clenched. He couldn’t answer. Not right away. He stared out at the goalposts, at the broken helmet half-buried in the grass.

“You didn’t do anything,” Max finally said. “That’s the worst part. You didn’t change. I did.”

Richie waited. 

Max swallowed hard, “My dad said I had to toughen up. That real men don’t hang out with soft kids. He told me if I kept being ‘weird,’ I’d get eaten alive. So I… I picked the side that looked like power. And I threw you under the bus to climb into the driver’s seat.” He laughed once, bitterly. “Turns out the bus was going off a cliff anyway.”

Richie said nothing, thinking over Max’s words. He thought about what it felt like when Max’s hands were around his throat. When he was choking on water and feeling the burn in his eyes. The haunting sounds of Max’s laughter. 

“I hated you.”

Richie jerked back, like he’d been slapped.

“But not because you were weak,” Max said quickly. “Because you knew me. The real me. You remembered who I used to be. And when I looked at you, I remembered too. And I couldn’t stand it. Because I lost one of the only people who would ever care about me.”

“What about your sister?” 

“She cares,” Max said quietly, “But she shouldn’t. I made her life miserable. I was a monster. And you were proof I didn’t have to be. That I chose it.”

Richie’s face crumpled, “You were my friend.”

Max nodded. “And I ruined it.”

A long silence. Then Richie punched him. Right in the arm. It didn’t hurt Max as much as it did Richie, but it still felt good to get it all out. 

Richie sniffled. “That’s not forgiveness.”

“I know.”

“But it’s a start.”

Max gave a weak smile. Steph watched them sit in silence for a while. Not healed. Not fixed. But finally, finally, facing the same direction.

~.~

Ruth was the last to remember what had happened. Not because she didn’t want to, it just happened that way. She was at theater rehearsal for the school’s play, the Barbeque Monologues, when she felt like someone’s eyes were on her. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling and it made her antsy. The whole reason she wasn’t on the stage in the first place is because she couldn’t take the thought of all those eyes even if she loved the theater. That’s why she was a techie, she could be part of the play without having to step foot in the spotlight. Charlie always said she should try, especially since she had a nice voice, but she was too afraid. 

A warm tingle ran up her spine and her hands began trembling, her palms began sweating, and Ruth cursed under her breath. The moment she remembered hit her like a tidal wave. 

Music. 

Laughter. 

The sound of her own scream. 

She stood up too fast. The box she was carrying fell to her feet and lightbulbs rolled onto the carpet. Charlie looked over at her, concerned. But she didn’t stay. She couldn’t. Not when it felt like everything was trying to suffocate her. 

So, she turned tail and she ran. 

She made it to the cafeteria before her legs gave out. She sank to the ground, shaking, gasping, arms wrapped around herself like she could hold her memories in. But she couldn’t.

Standing on the auditorium stage, singing to herself. 

Max Jagerman clapping.

The fear in her voice.

The sound of Max’s sneakers echoing closer and closer and closer…

And then, Ruth’s voice, finally rising.

Not in song.

But in a scream that shattered every light in the gym.

It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t cinematic. She didn’t feel brave remembering. She felt sick. And yet, when the storm passed, and she opened her eyes, and the present still held, she knew something had changed. Because she wasn’t dead on the stage anymore. She was still here.

She found the others all huddled together, in the hall. They looked nervous, all talking quietly as she approached. 

“You finally remembered?” Richie asked, noticing the look on Ruth’s face as she got closer. 

Ruth nodded, “Yeah.” 

“Finding you like that…” Charlie’s voice wobbled, “It wrecked me.” 

Ruth looked at her and took one of her hands, squeezing it. She had no idea that Charlie had been the one to find her body. How could she have. But Charlie was clearly remembering what it was like to walk in on that scene.

Ruth’s underwear was pulled up and over her head, covering her headgear. There was blood on her pants and on the stage behind her. And when Charlie gently pulled the fabric over her face to see her eyes one last time, the fear in them struck deep into her core. 

“I didn't know…” She said quietly. 

“You couldn’t have,” Grace reminded her. 

“So,” Pete said, looking between them all, “Now what?” 

Steph looked towards where Max was walking to the football field, Kyle and Jason trailing along behind him. She wasn’t sure how to save them, how to get back to her time. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to. 

Because in this timeline, Richie and Ruth were still alive. Her dad was still alive. And Max was trying, for the better. In this timeline, she could be a normal teenage girl and care too much about the next fashion trend and who said what to who instead of whether she was going to die the next day. 

But even if she had saved them all, even if she had changed their twisted fates, they still had to stop the Lords in Black. They still had to fight. 

Chapter Text

The teens had gone to the diner so they could collect the Black Book from Miss Holloway. Now, the seven of them entered the empty gymnasium. Hatchetfield High was dead quiet at night. The kind of quiet that pressed against your chest. The kind of quiet that made your ears ring with phantom noises. 

They moved as a group, flashlights dimmed, sneakers silent on tile. Steph led the way with Grace holding the Black Book in her backpack.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Richie muttered, pressing close to Ruth.

“Because we died after dismembering Max’s body?”

Max winced at Ruth’s words but nobody noticed. Charlie eyed him a little but she didn’t say anything. Now was not the time. 

Richie nodded, “Oh. Cool. Thanks.”

They stopped in the middle of the floor, sitting down in a circle. Grace dug the book out of her backpack and set it down on the floor in the middle of them. They all stared at it, unsure if they were willing to take this leap. 

“According to Miss Holloway,” Grace said, “The Waylon’s called themselves the Church of the Starry Children.”

Steph nodded, “And everything we know about them, the stories, the cult, the rituals. They’re all true. But it wasn't delusion or madness. They did have power.”

“For a hundred and fifty years, the Waylons ruled this town. It took an army of axe-wielding maniacs to finally lay them low. And even then they lived on... in a way. For nothing that dies in Waylon Hall ever truly dies. The Church saw to that. It was a spell they cast on the house to ensure their own survival beyond the grave.”

“Are we ready to pay this price?” 

“Are you?” Charlie asked, looking at her best friend.

Steph had been nervous as they trekked here. She couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if this went wrong. Would she go back to a world in which two of her friends were dead? Her father? Or would she be permanently stuck to fulfil the same endless story. Or what if the world she ended up in was infinitely worse? What if they were all dead when she got back? Steph didn’t know what she would do if that was the case. And she was really hoping she wouldn’t have to find out. 

Stephanie turned the page of the book. It flipped itself before she could stop it, landing on a page drawn in furious black ink, seven figures performing a spell, a ghastly one drawn in the middle of them, arms held up like it was defending itself from something. 

“They were trying to stop him , ” Ruth said, looking at the book. “Seal him away.”

Charlie gasped softly, “They wanted to end the loop.”

Richie frowned, “But now we’re back at the beginning.”

“Then maybe we can finish it.” Steph turned to Grace, “Start reading.” 

Grace cleared her throat, reading out, “‘Holding Court with the Void.’”

Pete frowns, “Steph, are you sure about this? I mean, who knows what kind of door we're about to open?”

“We have to, Pete.” She said, “I need to keep you all safe. I won’t lose. Not this time. Grace, summon the bastard.”

Grace nodded, “Okay. We invoke the name, T'noy Keraxis.”

Suddenly, what felt like small feathers brushing against their skin, there were echoes of voices in the otherwise empty gym. The teens all shivered and huddled closer to each other, eager to stave off the nerves that they felt growing in them. 

“T’noy Keraxis,” The voices muttered, a billowy sound, almost not quite there. 

“T’noy Keraxis,” Grace said again, encouraging the others to join her. 

The whispers continued, air swirling around the group of them like they were in a hurricane. Charlie held onto her brother’s hand tight as Ruth clung to Richie’s side. 

“Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah…” Grace chanted and the others followed, “Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah… Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah…”

Pete frowned, “Did it work?”

“Oh boy, a Spankoffski! I'm gonna have the whole set in my toy box!”

Chapter Text

Max Jagerman had always been a lot of things: star quarterback, bully, monster. He’d never been unsure.

But sitting in the gym, staring at a man with shaggy blonde hair, an orange shirt, and bright yellow jacket, pants and shoes accompanied by the goggles on his head, Max felt split down the middle. 

It was what was in his hand that made Max unsure. Pete seemed to feel it too, staring at the Bastard’s Box that this eldritch being held. His eyes seemed fixed on Peter, his crooked smile unnerving.

Steph sat across the circle, eyes locked on him. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. This was the thing that was toying with her all this time. She remembered him somewhat from when she, Grace, and Pete had summoned all five Lords in Black before in order to stop Max. But she didn’t remember the fixation he had on Pete, or the way his eyes slid over to her, narrowing on her frame. 

“You’re the one who brought me here,” She said, trying to keep calm. 

He grinned, settling his eyes back on Pete. There was one thing Steph still didn’t understand. Why had he brought her back? Why not Charlie? Or Grace? Someone who was smarter or more equipped to handle these kinds of things. Someone who wasn’t Stephanie Lauter. 

Then, the air snapped like a snare drum. From somewhere behind the far wall, a curtain began to rise. And far off, in the folds of reality, Tinky grinned.

Time cracked. Not in a dramatic, explosion-of-light kind of way, more like a glass pane flexing, just before it splinters.

Steph felt it in her teeth. Grace dropped to one knee. The Black Book flipped its pages on its own, landing on a sigil none of them recognized, a jagged hourglass wrapped in chains.

Then the ground lurched. The walls peeled away, not melting this time but reversing, growing younger, then older, then newer again, as if time didn’t know what it wanted to be. Wood creaked. Light snapped into existence. They were no longer in the gym.

They were on a stage. A grand, golden theater. Empty rows of velvet chairs stretched into the void. The air shimmered. Time vibrated. Everything hummed with impossible age .

And from behind the curtain, the voice came, “There you are. My little out-of-sync symphony.”

He stepped out slowly, smiling like a cracked pocket watch.

Tinky. The Time Bastard. His goat-like furry bodysuit, yellow and matted with a goat mask for a head with crooked teeth and a long, wet tongue accompanied a voice that ticked inside their skulls.

“I must confess,” Tinky drawled, “you’re far more interesting than the last. Let’s try this again, yes?”

The spotlight swung around.

And suddenly, Steph was ten years old, riding her bike in her driveway. Then sixteen, crying after her first panic attack. Then twenty-four, someone she hadn’t been yet, screaming as fire rained down on Hatchetfield from the sky.

Wrong. All wrong.

“Time,” Tinky whispered, circling her, “is a story. And you, dear girl, keep trying to skip to the ending."

Chapter Text

Grace stood alone on her wedding day. No music. No vows. Just wind rattling empty chairs. A bouquet decayed in her fists. Her veil tangled around her throat like a noose. The altar stood like a tombstone.

A funeral. She stood beside the casket, then in the casket. Her own name etched into the plaque. Her mother screamed. Her father vanished. Pete dropped a rose onto her folded hands. 

A hospital room. Screaming. Blinding light. The wet slap of birth and blood. Her lungs burned. Her body curled into itself as if trying to crawl back inside. Grace sobbed as she breathed her first breath again.

“This isn’t real,” she choked out, gagging on the air.

Tinky tilted his head, lips curled like spoiled milk, “Time doesn’t care.”

Charlie stood in five places at once. One version cradled Max’s body, sobbing so hard her chest cracked. Another screamed as she plunged rusted metal into his ribs. A third sat in the burned-out Waylon house, rocking herself to sleep. A fourth screamed as she disappeared into static. A fifth, blank. Unwritten. Waiting. Charlie’s mouth opened. No sound came out. Not even breath.

Pete ran and ran and ran. He failed the test. Then passed it. Then failed again. He ran from the school, then toward the fire, then away from Ruth’s scream. He dropped the sword, picked it up, never had it. Died. Lived. Watched himself turn away. A thousand Petes flickered like skipping film, each one just a fraction too late.

Richie and Ruth stood in a hallway that folded in on itself. Ruth blinked and she was singing. Blinked again, and she was screaming in silence. She stepped onstage, only to vanish before the first note. A spotlight where she should’ve been. Her hands, stained red with blood, a gun in her trembling fingers. 

Richie saw his body, face down on the floor of the locker room. He saw his uncle being dragged into a meteor, screaming for Emma, begging a mind-controlled Richie to help him. He saw himself taking an ax to Max’s legs, laughing as he sawed his limbs off, a deranged and angry man. 

Their lives spun like roulette wheels, clicking past versions too fast to hold. The Book snapped shut. Then opened again. Then the world held its breath. The stage froze. 

Max stood center spotlight, cast in a harsh white glow that peeled back his shadow. No music. Just static.

“You,” Tinky murmured with something close to affection, “are my favorite paradox.”

The air around Max pulsed, like a heartbeat breaking time.

“You’ve died more times than you’ve lived, haven’t you?” Tinky took a step forward, fingers twitching like puppet strings. “That’s what happens when the Lords try to write you back into existence again and again. You become unanchored. A splinter. A loop. A myth.”

The curtain behind him flickered. Then again. And again. Behind it, the audience breathed in unison. But not one audience. In the red velvet seats sat himself. Dozens. Hundreds. Max Jagermans, all staring back at him. Some with blood on their hands. Others with tears. One curled in a fetal position. One screaming. One wearing a crown. One still wearing his varsity jacket, wide-eyed and seventeen.

All of them reaching toward the stage. All of them begging. Begging him to choose. And then, all at once, the lights dimmed and the Book began to burn.